


Hopeless

by waywardangel (leviarty)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dreams and Nightmares, Episode Fix-It: s15e20 Carry On, Fix-It, Let Dean Winchester Say Fuck 2020, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:15:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27648050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leviarty/pseuds/waywardangel
Summary: “But… this is just an ending. It’s so… dark. It’s awful, horrible. It’s hopeless.”
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 78





	Hopeless

**Author's Note:**

> The fix-it that will hopefully let me ignore that dumpster fire of a finale and move on.

When Sam got back from his morning run, Dean was already in the kitchen… drinking. His eyes were closed, wearing a familiar, pained expression that seemed right at home with the dead Man of Letters robe.

“Dude, it’s like 8:30,” Sam said, reaching into the fridge for a bottle of water.

“Your point?” Dean asked, taking a long sip from the bottle.

“Little early, don’t you think?”

Dean let out a sigh, but still didn’t open his eyes. “I had a weird dream last night, man.”

“Yeah? Clowns or midgets?”

Dean finally opened his eyes to give Sam a look that fell somewhere between surprised and confused. “Clowns, sort of.”

“Thought that was supposed to be my nightmare.” Sam sat down at the table, and a few moments later, Dean joined him.

“Yeah.” Dean chewed on his lip, studying the rim of his bottle. “I died,” he said finally. “On a stupid _milk run_.” He rubbed his hand over his forehead. “I died and went to heaven. And when I got there… Bobby was waiting. He said Jack had changed things up there, made it better. He said Cas helped, I guess Jack brought him back too, and it was like… it was like I didn’t even care. I just got in the car and drove.”

“But you do care,” Sam said. It wasn’t a question, but it wasn’t not a question either.

“Dude, after what happened.” Dean sighed. “I’d give damn near anything to see him again. But I didn’t even try. I just got in the car and drove. And by the end of the song, you were there with me. You had lived out your whole life, had a wife and kid, and died in the 5 minutes and 22 seconds it took me to drive who-the-fuck-knows where. The whole thing just felt so… hopeless.”

At the last word, Sam’s expression fell, his brown furrowing in contemplation.

“What?” Dean asked.

“I got a call from Becky yesterday,” he said.

Dean looked up, rolling through his mental rolodex of all the people they’d interacted with over the years. “Becky… _Rosen_?”

“Yeah. Chuck snapped her and her family out of existed _months_ ago. But not before she got a glimpse of his ending for us. She called to warn us, but I didn’t think much of it, what with him being gone.” Sam took a deep breath. “But get this. You said ‘sort of’ clowns, right? She said vamp in freaky mime masks killed you. And her exact word? ‘Hopeless’.”

Dean stared at him for a long moment. “What the _fuck_?”

“Yeah.”

“No, seriously, what the fuck. Chuck is supposed to be powered down. And aren’t you supposed to be the psychic? Why the hell am I having dreams about his ending?!”

“Maybe it’s a coincidence?” Sam offered.

Dean shook his head. “No, Sam. I’ve had some weird ass dreams before, but never anything like this. And it _was_ mime vamps. We found them in Dad’s journal, and old case he never solved. Except, I know that thing like the back of my hand, I don’t remember ever seeing it before.”

“And I flipped through while I was talking to Becky,” Sam said. “Just to be sure, ya know. There’s nothing there that looks even remotely like what she described to me.”

“So he was, what, gonna add pages to leave us clues? Has he been doing that the whole time?”

Sam shrugged. “Yeah, probably.”

Dean stared at his bottle for a while longer, before looking up at the ceiling and shouting “Jack!?”

The was a brief pause, as they both waited from some kind of response.

“You know he’s not going to answer,” Sam said.

“He better fucking answer. JACK! CAS?” Dean stood up from his chair, pacing the room as he shouted upward.

“Dean—”

“No,” Dean said, rounding on him. “I’m seeing Chuck’s ending, and that’s fucking weird. But the other stuff—Jack fixing Heaven, Cas being back… that’s not Chuck’s ending. So, what was it?”

“He had already laid the groundwork for your end,” Jack said, appearing between them. “I stopped it, of course, but echoes remained. What you saw… his ending for you, it somehow allowed you a glimpse into Heaven as it is now.”

“What the fuck?” Dean found himself asking yet again.

“I’m sorry,” Jack said. “It shouldn’t happen again.” He turned and started to walk away.

“Wait!” Dean said. “So, Cas… he’s…”

“He’s in Heaven, with the angels. I offered for him to remain on earth but he… he said he wasn’t needed here anymore.”

Dean rolled his eyes, and despite his irritation, he found himself cracking a small smile. “Idiot.”

Jack smiled at them. “Goodbye, Dean. Goodbye, Sam.”

“See you later,” Sam said, refusing to accept it as a final goodbye.

Jack turned, fading as he walked away.

“Well shit,” Sam said, after he was gone.

Dean didn’t say anything. He stood up straight and followed Jack’s path out of the room.

“Dean?” Sam asked, rising to follow him.

“Don’t mind me, Sammy, I’ll just be yelling at the sky until that FEATHERY DOUCHBAG GETS HIS ASS DOWN HERE SO WE CAN HAVE A PROPER CONVERSATION.”

**Author's Note:**

>  ~~Don’t worry, I’m already working on a follow up to this where Dean and Cas actually talk, and after that several fics that will completely ignore that any of this happened at all.~~ [Deserving](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27656845) is a continuation of sorts, and you should definitely check it out.


End file.
